to make the most of time
by indelibles
Summary: He figures that if he dies today he doesn't want too many regrets, and not loving Maysilee Donner would definitely have been his biggest mistake. /Maysilee&Haymitch, for Bea.


_**For Bea. **_

_**i.**_

"Maysilee Donner!" calls the man, smiling brightly as he drops the slip of paper onto the ground.

The girl freezes. Her heart beats, _thumpity-thumpity-thump, _so loudly she thinks that surely even the President can hear it from all the way in the Capitol.

It feels as though the whole crowd has turned to face her. It's the ultimate staring contest, and she has already lost. Six slips among thousands and yet her's was the name picked.

So Maysilee walks up to the stage even though every step she takes her feet seem to grow heavier. She stands in her place, and nearly laughs when the escort asks for volunteers. No one ever volunteers from district Twelve, and there will be no exceptions this year.

She stands beside a girl who began to sob when her name was called, and then a boy who stumbles on his way to the stage. But the last tribute from twelve, Haymitch Abernathy, walks quickly to the stage, back straight and mouth set in a smirk. She smirks back at him and tries to ignore the little thrill that races through her body.

_**ii**_**.**

"There!" exclaims Felipa, one of the three people who stand positioned around Maysilee. "Now your stylist will work on you."

It crosses Maysilee's mind to feel offended that her stylist wouldn't even see her until she'd been worked on for at least an hour, but she shakes aside the thought. This is the Capitol. The people here are beautiful, or they aren't people at all (though some of the things that they consider beautiful would fit right into her nightmares).

"I'll go let her know you're ready," Vanna -one of the other members of her prep team- says, leaving the room with a slight skip to her step.

Maysilee nods, and picks up the thin robe laying puddled around her feet. She slips her arms into it and wraps it around herself, watching the last member of her prep team, Landry, picking up various brushes and products from the floor.

The door slides open with a soft beep and Vanna re-enters, another woman ahead of her. The woman looks older than Maysilee's prep team, but it's hard to be sure. You can look any age you want in the Capitol, as long as you have money and a good plastic surgeon. Maysilee dimly recognizes her from previous Games, but she can't have been around more than three years, and Maysilee can't remember her name.

"Call me Antonia," says the woman. She circles around Maysilee, studying her. "I'm your head stylist."

Maysilee nods, and Antonia smiles at her. "Your hair is lovely," Antonia murmurs, twirling a piece of it between her fingers. The lilt of her voice is different, and her accent is slightly less pronounced than those of Maysilee's prep team. Maysilee watches her pin back pieces of her hair and tries not to think of her sister, who wore her hair up every day so that people can tell them apart.

_**iii**_**. **

Her miner's costume is barely there, but she smiles and waves to the crowd. Haymitch stands stiff beside her and puts on his arrogant smirk. The Capitol love it.

After they eat that night, Maysilee and Haymitch stay up watching videos from past Games. Maysilee is wondering whether someday a tribute will watch a video of their Games when Haymitch speaks.

"That's going to be us in a few days." he says, and gestures to the screen where a boy is stabbing another boy repeatedly with his spear. "Cold blooded."

She doesn't try to argue. There is no room for a conscience or a moral compass. They'll be survivors, fighters, killers.

_**iv.**_

The days pass quickly until finally, they stand on their plates. The gong rings out, and Maysilee runs. A small backpack is only a few yards from her, so she grabs it before disappearing into the woods.

She sees Haymitch again the next day and decides to follow him as he treks across the arena. He makes a good travel buddy, even if he doesn't necessarily know it. And when the careers come she saves him, because sometimes she passes him during school or sees him around Twelve, and well, he's from home. Their alliance is nice, and it makes it a lot easier to get a few hours of sleep.

Despite the alliance, though, Maysilee wakes up when the boy from District Eight lunges out of the bushes and towards them. Haymitch was keeping watch, but the tribute came from her side and so she scrambles for a weapon. A knife Haymitch grabbed off of one of the career's bodies is closest, and she snatches it up despite how awkward it feels in her hand.

The boy isn't as strong as he looks, but she keeps stabbing him long after he's dead. Eventually Haymitch has to pull her off of the boy's body, and she thinks that Haymitch was right back in the Capitol, when he said they'd be cold blooded.

Maybe in another world she'd have grown up innocent, or never known what it was like to watch someone die. Maybe in another life she wouldn't be a killer and Haymitch wouldn't have to wipe the blood off her hands.

_**v. **_

He kisses her. They've stopped walking for a moment and she's talking about her sister and he's watching the sun on her hair and, well, he figures that if he dies today he doesn't want too many regrets, and not loving Maysilee Donner would definitely have been his biggest mistake. His lips have barely touched her's when she kisses him back, and for a moment he can almost forget where they are.

So he holds her hand tightly and she tries to memorize the exact shade of his eyes and they pretend like they're immortal.

_**vi.**_

She leaves anyway, though. There's only five tributes left and now that they've found the end, why stay there? Maysilee walks away and she doesn't look back because if she does, she won't ever be able to look forward again. The woods are empty and silent, which is never a good sign. She doesn't notice that, though, all she notices is how foreign Haymitch's absence is.

It's only been ten minutes and she already misses him.

_**vii.**_

It ends with one girl, one boy, and two hands clasped.

By the time Haymitch hears her screams, it's too late. She's lying on the ground and there's blood everywhere and he ran faster than ever before, really, but it wasn't enough.

He takes her hand. It's soft, but not quite as soft as he expected, and with her last strength she squeezes his hand.

Even after she's gone, he sits by her. He whispers to her about how if he could, he'd hold her hand in a thousand lives, over and over, forever. He tells her that he's glad he kissed her and held her hand before it was too late, but that it still wasn't fair for her to go so soon.

_**viii.**_

In the end, he walks away, and he looks back more times than he can count.


End file.
